


A Hands On Approach

by MelCrooks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2019-12-07 00:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelCrooks/pseuds/MelCrooks
Summary: During the hunt of Voldemort's Horcruxes a unique relationship forms between the voice in Slytherin's locket and the brains of the Golden Trio.  What will happen when Hermione agrees it is time to meet face-to-face? AU.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters of this story were originally published for The Dark Lords Poison first ever fest - When we're alone. They were also my first attempt at fan fiction. Thank you to Cherie for your assistance and thank you to the group for their encouragement. I have not stopped writing since this fest.
> 
> This story is definitely AU.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I'm sure as hell not profiting from this work.

“I can do this” was the thought passing through Hermione’s head. Forget “this is a trap”, “you’re a fucking _idiot_ ”, “Constant vigilance!” Hermione laughed to herself. That went out the window a long time ago. She knew she shouldn’t be here, but Harry would never know. He already knew he had her unconditional support. And Ron? Never mind that git. This was something different. This was only for her.

Hermione slowly walked into the remains of an old stone building. Tall trees surrounded the roofless structure while vines grew wildly on the floor and over the barren walls. He promised no harm will come to her; can she trust _him_? Absolutely not! She wasn’t an idiot, only determined! And the idea of seeing _him_ was much too exciting. To finally be alone with him.

There were lit candles on top of an alter causing a warm glow to push away some the darkness. She whispered a Nox and lowered her wand. Hermione walked over to the altar trying to stay as close to the light as possible. “How bloody romantic” she retorted as she rolled her eyes and moved to sit on the nearest pew. “I can do this” she whispered while removing the warm gloves from her hands.

“Are you speaking to me or yourself, Miss Granger.”

Hermione quickly turned around, pointing her wand straight ahead. She was startled, but her hand did not show the slightest tremor. She slowly stood up. She knew he would be here, but the sight of him made it so _real_. “Vol- “she paused. “I’m not sure what I should call you.”

“My Lord will be acceptable,” said Voldemort with a smirk etched on his serpentine face.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as a mocking smile formed on her lips. “I believe we can skip the introductions. We both know they’re not needed.” Hermione lowered her wand and stepped closer to the dark wizard. She made sure her Gryffindor courage could be seen, but still stopped within a meter of the wizard. Instantaneously he filled the gap between them looking directly into her eyes. She sharply inhaled as her confidence wavered. “ _I can do this_ ” she thought.

“Your mantra is getting quite boring. Perhaps I’ve I made a mistake of inviting you here. But that can’t be it; now can it, Miss Granger?” His eye bore into hers with such intensity she moved her head down to focus on his chest. She refused to have him stare into her mind. Hermione exhaled and moved over to look out the window noticing the pieces of broken colored glass. “ _Hermione_? This shy pretense doesn’t work for you.”

“What happened to _Miss Granger_?” she asked as she turned around to face him again.

“It’s only fitting to address you as a… _friend_. Hermione tried her hardest not to roll her eyes at the most feared wizard in the wizarding world. “ _A friend indeed_!” she thought. A memory of herself outside a tent late at night came to the forefront of her mind. She was bringing herself to climax as a voice demanded her to press harder on her clit. The naughtiest things being whispered to her as the voice moaned. Suddenly, the image changed into a man with messy black hair replacing her fingers with his tongue. Hermione cringed. _Friend_ was definitely the wrong word to use!

“Enough!” Voldemort snapped as he pointed a slender finger at her. “How dare you taint such memories you filthy _Mudblood_?” He hissed as he walked closer to her.

A gasp left Hermione’s mouth “I’m here, am I not? You know that never happened and if it did (it didn’t) it is none of you bloody concern!” she responded through gritted teeth. “Also,” now with a sneer across her lips. “Let’s not pretend that I’m the only one here with _filthy_ blood.”

The area where a nose once lived flared as he rushed over to the young witch. “Never say such things!” He hissed. “Let’s not forget who I am, _my pe_ t.” Placing a long finger under her chin as he continued “It is I in control here. Don’t make me cause you unnecessary pain.” Hermione tilted her head to the side avoiding his eyes. She felt his finger as it moved to touch an unruly curl next to her ear. A chill ran down her spine. She thought about turning ever so slightly to press her lips against the inside of his wrist, but instead, she raised her head and placed her hand over his. She noticed something flicker in his crimson eyes as he watched her hand on his. She let go of his hand taking a step back. Voldemort once again approached her lowering his face to smell her hair. Then she heard it under his breath. He moaned.

“Hiding in the woods, my dear?” Hermione squared her shoulders before she spoke: “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He laughed.

She didn’t know if she should be ashamed or…pleased. Ashamed she might be risking her and Harry’s location or pleased because she caused that reaction from him. Hermione thought of those long nights keeping watch. Her only companion; a golden locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. Within a few days after retrieving the locket, the trio noticed wearing it caused negative effects. That was how this unusual acquaintance formed. At first, she was frightened then that morphed into curiosity. In the end, it boiled down to self-indulgence. She enjoyed the praise the voice provided.

“ _My dearest, you are brilliant_.”  
“ _Your knowledge is impressive_.”  
“ _How I wish to touch you_.”  
“ _When we’re alone, I want to feel you come undone_.”  
“ _My beautiful witch._ ” That was her favorite, it made her laugh knowing who the voice really was.

Hermione learned quickly that Voldemort was the voice. Between Harry’s irritableness and Ron being suspicious, it became a needed distraction. The lack of carbohydrates didn’t help the situation either. Three months of nightly conversations and a month of nightly masturbation lead her here. She assumed, in the beginning, she was communicating to only a piece of _him_ , a small fragment of him. Tonight, proved her wrong.

“Hermione.” His voice removed her from her thoughts. He was sitting on a window sill looking out into the darkness. His skin glowed as the full moon lit up the empty window. “Come sit with me,” he asked quietly. Hermione approached him and sat down. She couldn’t help but admire the length of his neck, the translucent quality to his skin, and even the scarlet glow of his eyes. “ _A fallen angel in a collapsed church. How poetic_?” she thought.

“I’m pleased you’re here Hermione. I have to say your courage has always been intriguing.” He turned his head to look at her. His red eyes meeting her chocolate brown. “Why aren’t you afraid th-“

“I’m not afraid of you,” she quickly answered as she felt him look into her mind. “Please don’t,” she looked away. “I’m right here. There’s no need for you to do that.” She once again looked at him.

Voldemort stared at the witch; providing her a small nod. “I was going to ask, why aren’t you afraid that this is a trap; before you so rudely interrupted me.” He had a smile on his face. She would have thought the site horrifying, but the small lines that formed around his eyes prevented that.

“Is it a trap?” Replied Hermione.

The Dark Lord shook his head “No, Hermione. This is not a trap”.

“So, you just wanted to get me alone?”

“Yes, that is one of the reasons.”

“Well…how exactly are you going to convince me to join your side, now that we’re alone?” She asked.

“My dear, you are much too clever.”

“For a Mudblood, that is.” Voldemort made no attempt to agree or disagree. She shrugged her shoulders. “You want to convince me to join you and I want to…expand my knowledge.”

“Your thirst for knowledge can almost be compared to my own," he replied.

“I do on occasion get very… _thirsty_.”

“Oh, the things I can teach you, my darling.” He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. This time she did not step back. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of his skin against hers. She gently turned her head allowing her lips to move trail across his fingertips. When she reached his thumb, she opened her eyes to meet his while sucking on the tip of his thumb.

“Now, I believe it’s time to inform me of your _other_ reasons for inviting me here," whispered Hermione.

A moment later he quickly lowered his head placing his lips on hers. Passion took over sending warmth throughout her body and in-between her legs. Hermione opened her mouth to brush her tongue across his bottom lip causing him to open for her. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth relishing at the feel of his tongue moving against hers. As she nipped his lip, he moaned. Voldemort grabbed her pulling her over his lap, her legs now hanging out the window as she straddled him. Hermione’s arms wrapped around his neck pushing him closer to her. He glided his hands down her back to grip the tightness of her round arse. He moaned again. She wanted to feel all of him. She was convinced that this would be the only outcome of all their conversations. This is what brought her here.

They both wanted something for each other. Hermione had no issues with this. She wanted to feel _him_ , and he wanted a chance to convince her to join him. She shifted, rubbing herself against him; he moaned. There was no doubt that “joining” will occur tonight, but not in the way he expected. And that is exactly the way she wanted it. For now, let him believe he has full control.

“Do you want to fuck me, _My Lord_?” She whispered to him as she bit the tip of his ear. He moaned. Hermione couldn’t help but savor the sounds she was causing him to create. “ _How easy it is to stroke the ego,"_ she thought.

She would never betray Harry. Anyone who truly knew her would know that. She only needed something of her own and this is what she decided on. In the end, she will find a way to destroy the locket, destroy the rest of the Horcruxes, and will stand with Harry as he destroys _him_. But for now she just groaned “ _Teach me everything, My Lord_!”

Hermione lowered her hand to rub the length of his hardness; he moaned. She smirked as he started to roughly kiss her jawline then moving lower to trail his tongue along her neck. She couldn’t help getting wet by the sense of power she had over _him_. “Yes, _My Lord_!” she breathed out. He moaned as he swiftly removed her shirt. Hermione leaned forward and allowed him to unhook her bra causing him to moan at the site of her round breast with perfect pink nipples. As Voldemort took one of her nipples in his mouth, she moved her hand in-between his robes stroking his hard cock. He moaned. The dark wizard stood causing Hermione to wrap her legs around his waist. With a wave of his hand a pew slid over causing a screech to echo in the abandoned space. Voldemort moved them on the surface, she was positioned under him. He once again kissed her then pushed up on his knees to view her. As he started stroking his large cock.  Hermione lifted her hands moving them over her stomach until she reached her breasts. When she started to pinch her nipples, she looked into his eyes and groaned softly “Now, I need you to do a hands on demonstration of all the _disgusting_ things you can do to me.”

He moaned.


	2. The meeting continues...

_Hermione lifted her hands moving them over her stomach until she reached her breasts. When she started to pinch her nipples, she looked into his eyes and groaned softly “Now, I need you to do a hands-on demonstration of all the disgusting things you can do to me.” He moaned._

“ _Indeed_ ,” Voldemort replied softly with a purr, as his gaze stayed on the young witch. With a barely noticeable wave of his hand Hermione’s jeans and knickers disappeared. She now laid there completely bare before him. Hermione couldn’t help but feel like a sacrificial virgin being offered to an ancient god. The feeling was intoxicating. As he kept his crimson eyes on her, he moved his hand to undo the fasteners of his robe, allowing the soft material to fall in a shadowy pool around his knees. Hermione’s breath hitched as she took him all in. His skin was white marble wrapped tightly around his thin frame. He was very thin, almost skeletal, but lean muscle showed in the length of his arms, chest, and thighs.

“Show me. Show me how you touched yourself during those long nights together,” his voice was like velvet caressing her body. Hermione trailed her hand from her breast down to her stomach. The Dark Lord’s eyes following her hand. She moved her hand to her mound, then traced a finger along her entrance. She slowly moved her wet finger up her slit causing a loud whimper to leave her throat. Hermione’s sounds caused him to moan as he watched her finger graze her swollen clit. She continued to make small circles with her fingertip, rolling her hips into the satisfying movement. She opened her eyes and looked at the wizard still kneeling between her open legs. She noticed his eyes looked like rubies; the shimmer only hidden by his dilated pupils. As she continued to rub herself, she decided it was time to summon more of that Gryffindor bravery.

“Now, I believe it’s time for another demonstration. May I suggest," she said in an innocent voice, “That it should conclude with me…coming in your mouth.” Hermione couldn’t believe the words _coming_ from her own mouth, but her expression stayed neutral. This was her time and she was going to get _hers_. Perhaps it was only her arousal, but did the Dark Lord, gulp? “My Lord I-“

In one sweeping motion he grabbed her from under her bent knees, lowering himself slightly, as her legs went over his shoulders and his face went exactly where it needed to be. “Oh, Merlin!” she shrieked as his tongue licked in one long motion from her entrance to her clitoris.

“No, my pet. Lord Voldemort is much more powerful.” That was the only thing he said - or she chose to hear - as he continued to devour her. She could feel her body starting to convulse with the addition of his long fingers.

“Oh, _My Lord_!” she cried out as she felt her entire body let go and coast.

A few minutes later, after her breathing slowed, he moved up her body leaving behind a path of wet kisses. When he reached her ear he whispered, “Are you comfortable on this surface, _Hermione_?”

“Quite the opposite really,” she whispered back.

“ _Good_ ,” Voldemort replied as he swiftly entered her. Hermione inhaled; her breath caught in her throat. The pain intensified around her core, but she refused to let out a cry. “Fuck!” she shouted as she wrapped her arms around him allowing her head to move to his shoulder as she bit him. He moaned as her teeth were to the point of breaking skin. Her hands felt the muscles of his back working feverishly as his thrust quickened. As the pain started to lessen a groan fell from her lips. “Yess,” he hissed as he once again looked into her eyes. His forearms were now on the sides of her head pressing into the hard wood beneath them. His fingers were weaved through her curls as his hands cupped the base of her skull. “Come undone again Hermione. Let me see you wither beneath me… _beautiful_.” The buildup she was feeling between them started to move through her body causing her to arch into him as she came undone again. This time, she felt something else. “ _Electricity_?” she thought. No, it was something more, “ _Magic_? _Their_ _magic_?”

Voldemort pulled Hermione up keeping their connection as her legs now straddled him. Her knees hitting against the back of the wooden pew as he continued to thrust up inside her. His hands still tangled in her hair as she continued to move her hips against him. “Such an obedient student. Are you ready to end tonight’s lesson?” He asked as his head lowered to her breast; slipping a nipple into his mouth. As he bit down, then sucked, Hermione cried out as her hands gripped his shoulders, “No, _please_ don’t bloody stop!” Hermione felt her pussy tighten on his cock again; this time causing his eyes to close and his head to fall back as he loudly moaned as they both reached their release.

The only noise that could have been heard within the stone walls was the heavy breathing between them. His hands were resting on her arse as her head was resting on his shoulder. Hours passed or perhaps it was just a few minutes when she felt his long nails lightly stroke her spine. Hermione lifted her head to look at him and watched as his other hand moved in-between them. She gasped as his fingers slid between her slick folds. He raised two fingers rubbing them with his thumb.

“I’m honored, dearest,” he said as he continued to smear the bright red blood between his fingers. He smiled as a blush crept from her cheeks to her chest. She continued to watch as he placed his fingers near his mouth letting his tongue lick the tips clean. The scene aroused her causing her to wiggle in his lap.

“I have to go,” said Hermione as she started to move from his lap.

“No,” said Voldemort grasping her waist. “Stay here…until I say otherwise.”

“I can’t,” she said lazily as she placed her head back on his shoulder, “I need to go back.”

“Go back to where, my pet? You’re exhausted. Rest right now.”

“Stop pretending that you care,” she replied. She heard a small chuckle come from his chest as he moved his hand through her hair.

“Will you come with me?” he asked. Hermione simply shook her head “no” as she kept her head in the curve of his neck. “I thought tonight would have convinced you to leave with me.” Hermione raised her head to look at him.

“You honestly believe one night can convince me to leave everything I know to join you?”

“Of course not. I know my witch cannot be tempted so easily,” he replied with a smirk on his face.

“ _My_ _witch_?” she mockingly laughed with a roll of her eyes, returning her head to rest on his shoulder. “Stop pretending that you care…it’s…nauseating.”

“Oh, Hermione. I’m sure even the soulless like a warm body near them during the night,” Voldemort replied as he stroked her cheek.

The last thing she remembered from that night in the old abandoned church was a whispered Scourgify and _him_ wrapping his soft black robe around them as she drifted to sleep on his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic ever and it has been a long time coming. Thank you to Cherie for your assistance and thank you to the group for their encouragement. I believe you've created a monster that has no intention of stoping.


	3. Three Days

The sun hadn’t yet made its appearance as Hermione woke up.  She was warm. _That’s odd_ .  The tent is never really warm.  As her eyes opened she quietly gasped at the man who was beneath her.  Voldemort's alabaster skin glowed in the remaining candle light from the alter.  Hermione was in awe of the slightly iridescent tint that shimmered in various spots.  His eyes were still closed and she could feel his chest rise and fall under her own. “ _It seems even Lord Voldemort was in desperate need of sleep._ ”  She slowly moved herself from his body and onto her knees.  Her eyes now taking in the entire view. Voldemort’s skin was flawless.  Slick. There were no traces of hair anywhere and his sex was a couple shades darker than his skin.  He was also hard, something she was all too aware of. She’d been living in a damn tent with two teenage boys, _well one now_.  Mornings were only awkward for the first few weeks, then it became what it is.  Hermione removed his robe from her body and laid it over him. When the material touch his skin, his eyes quickly opened, causing her to gasp again, but not so quietly.  A smirk etched across his thin lips as his scarlet eyes pierced hers.

“Feeling _guilty_ already, my pet?”  Hermione stared back at the wizard beneath her.  “Perhaps.” His smart remarks fueled something in her. _Prick._ Hermione forcefully removed the robe she had placed over him and threw it on the old stone floor.  In an instant, she was back on him, her legs on each side of his hips as she crashed down on his cock.  One of her hands gripping the back of the pew so tightly her knuckles turned white. The other at the base of his throat.

“ _No_ ,” she said through clenched teeth,  “I don’t feel _guilty._ ”  Hermione continued to roughly grind her pelvis into his, making sure he could feel the hard wood press into his back.

“ _Hermione_ ,” he moaned, grabbing Hermione’s hand and holding it a bit more tightly against his throat.  His other moved in between them and pressed against her swollen clit. The sensation was almost painful as he pinched the sensitive spot.  The shock didn’t stop her though, it only made her work harder for what she wanted and by his moans, she knew she was almost there.

“You teach so well, _My Lord_ ,” she hissed.  As if though the words themselves were a charm.  Voldemort raised his knees to thrust harder into her.  His fingers on her clit lightened in pressure, but not on speed.  She could feel the tension buildup, she was so close. As her core clamped down tighter on his length, he moaned loudly.  Hermione’s eyes opened, so she could watch him. His eyes closed and his head tilted back, the view and feel of his climax aiding her to cum along with him.

They stayed connected as Hermione tried to catch her breath.  Her head resting in the crook of his neck allowing her nose to inhale the scent of his skin.  The scent of wet earth and something spicy filled her nose. _Cardamom?_  Suddenly, she removed herself from him causing his eyes to comically widen from the quick motion.  “My clothes? Where are my clothes?” she started to search around frantically. Hermione was too busy looking around to notice how Voldemort waved his hand and her clothes appeared folded next to her.  Hermione instantly started putting on her pants and shoes without looking in his direction. Once done she picked up her wand and faced the dark wizard who was still nude and in the same position upon the wooden pew.  His eyes met her chocolate orbs once before he spoke.

“Hermione, come with -” Was the last thing she heard before she Disapparated back into the woods she came from.

* * *

  **Three days later**

Hermione sat in an old worn out armchair.  Her notes and books laid scattered around in her own version of organized chaos.  To Harry she might look as though she were researching, but in actuality, the only thing that played through her psyche was _him_ .  It has been three days since Hermione met _him_ face-to-face.  Three days since she had sex for the first time.  Not only to a wizard, but a dark wizard who was technically over fifty years her senior.  Hermione couldn't stop the laughter escaping her lips. The idea was too unimaginable for her not to laugh.  She would be lying if she said she regretted what happened. In fact, she quite enjoyed it. It felt good to have something that was hers.  Something she didn’t have to share with anyone else besides the parties involved. She could almost feel his soft caress whenever she wore that bloody locket.   _He_ hasn't spoken to her since, but she wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing.  Perhaps it really was for the best that it was forgotten. Hermione took a drink of water from the glass in front of her, closing her eyes as the cold liquid removed the dryness from her mouth.

“Hey?”  Hermione turned her head to see her best friend sitting next to her.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay, Hermione?  You’ve seemed distracted these last few days and not the way you usually are with your research.”  asked Harry with a look of concern on his face.

“I’m fine, Harry.  Just, I don’t know.  Restless?” She responded with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“I know we talked about this before Hermione and I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, but I feel we could find some answers in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Harry-”

“We’re stuck, Hermione!”  Hermione inhaled then exhaled.

“I know...and you’re right, Harry.”  Hermione paused, then picked up the book that was next to her.  Although, her mind was occupied with _other_ things, she still remembered something she wanted to discuss with Harry.  “Can you remember seeing this anywhere?” She watched as Harry furrowed his forehead at the open book.

“I have no idea how to read Ancient Runes, Hermione.”

“That’s just it, Harry.  It’s not a Rune. I can’t find it anywhere.”  Harry traced his finger over the triangular shape.

“It’s not part of the book.  It’s been drawn on the pages.”

“I don’t know, Hermione.”  She watched has Harry’s green eyes lit up, then focused on hers.  “Lovegood. Mr. Lovegood, at the wedding. He was wearing a necklace with this symbol. I think it’s Grindelwald’s mark.”

Hermione stood up from the old chair, “What?  From everything I read, he never had a mark of any kind,” Hermione asked confused by Harry’s statement.

“That is why Krum got upset at the wedding.  He mentioned something about the mark being on a wall in Drumstrang, that Grindelwald put it there.”

“Hmm?  We have a lot to think about.  But, perhaps, it might be there.  Give me some time. We need to figure out the best way to do this.”  Harry nodded his head, then lifted his eyebrows.

“Hermione?  What might be there?”  Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“For fuck’s sake, Harry.  I don’t even want to answer that question.”  Harry continued to stare at her.

“The sword, Harry.  Godric Gryffindor is from Godric’s Hollow, so perhaps, the sword is there.  Are you following?”

“Oh! Yes, the sword.  Godric, Godric’s Hollow.”  Hermione pulled a book from her bag and pushed it towards Harry, but before she gave it to him, she pulled it back, reading the cover.

“Bathilda Bagshot?” She whispered to herself.

“Lives in Godric’s Hollow.”  Hermione meet Harry’s eyes.

“How do you know that?”

“Muriel.  Ginny’s and Ron’s great-aunt, from the wedding.”  Hermione’s brain was moving so quickly she had to close her eyes.  “Hermione?”

“I have to think, just give me some time.”  Hermione walked over to her bag and pulled out Harry’s Invisibility Cloak.  She reached out her hand to him. “Give me the locket.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, give it to me.  I’m going to get food for us and you need a break.”

“Hermione, I said-”

“Harry James Potter, do not make me ask you a second time!” Harry took off the locket and placed it around Hermione’s neck.  “Go rest, please. I’ll be back with something to eat soon.” Harry took Hermione in his arms and squeezed her.

“Thank you, Hermione.”  She kissed his cheek and watched as he removed his glasses and went into the bunk bed in the corner or the tent.  Not a moment later she could hear his soft breathing. Hermione stepped outside and threw the cloak over her body.  She was tired of being hungry, so she decided a trip to the supermarket was a must, also some time to think alone would be beneficial.

She was gone for less than an hour before she returned to their campsite.

 _“I don’t believe I have ever heard anyone debate with themselves over a tin of fruit.”_ Hermione almost screamed, but was able to place her hand over her mouth.  “ _Where are you?”_

_“It’s none of your concern where I am.”_

_“Perhaps, I should show your dearest friend what you have been up too?”_

_“Yes, I’m sure my friend would love to see my thinking process of purchasing tinned fruit.”_

_“Don’t be cheeky.  You are very aware of what I’m referring too.”_

_“Are you blackmailing me?”_ She could hear his low chuckle in her head.

_“Where were you, my pet?”_

_“Again, none of your concern.”_ Another chuckle _._

_“Meet me tonight.”_

_“I can’t”_

_“And why is that?”_

_“I’m busy.”_

_“I’ll be at the same location.  Midnight.”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“You will and this time you will leave when I say you can leave.”_

Hermione walked back to the tent, the conversation still playing in her head.   _I’m a fucking idiot!_ However, she couldn’t deny the fact that she wanted to see him again.   _Of course, he wouldn’t just forget everything._

Hermione huffed, then removed the locket and placed it in her pocket.   _If I go, it would be the last time.  It has to be._ Hermione shook her head. “I turned myself into a bloody pawn,” she whispered to herself as she made her way through the entrance of the tent.  She knew Harry was right, they were stuck. Godric's Hollow was the only option now. She only hoped the sword would be there and that Bathilda Bagshot had it.  Hermione sat back down at the table and watched her sleeping friend. She wanted Harry to rest for as long as possible. His burden was beyond anything she was carrying.  Hermione made her way to the kitchen and started to prepare a meal for the both of them.

* * *

 “Harry?”

“Hermione!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said.  “ I made something to eat and we need to discuss Godric’s Hollow.”  Harry lifted his head and sniff loudly.

“Spaghetti?”  Hermione smiled at her friend.  “Thank Merlin.”

“And tinned pears.”

“Perfect.”  Hermione sat with Harry at the table as they savored the Spaghetti.  He looked horrible, which she was sure she did too. He was tired and unsure about himself. The thought of conversation she had outside came back to her, they needed to do _something_.

“Godric’s Hollow.”  Harry turned his head to look at her.  “I know you would like to leave now, but it could be dangerous,”  she said as she looked into his green eyes. Harry shook his head in agreement.

“Give me a week.  We will have to use Polyjuice Potion and your Invisibility Cloak.”  Harry’s hand held Hermione’s. She happily squeezed back rubbing her thumb across the dry skin of his knuckles.

  
“ _Three days_ ,” she thought.  “ _Three days_ _since I’ve seen him and three days since I’ve lied to my best friend._ ”


	4. Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is definitely AU, so I’m going to be playing with the timeline a bit. I’ve also left out most of the Godric's Hollow visit and went straight to the point.
> 
> Thank you Pamela RR for your wonderful help as always.

Hermione’s feet moved faster than her brain as she ran up the narrow staircase in Bathilda Bagshot’s home. She knew something was wrong with this witch! They had planned everything out. Stealing hair from two Muggles for the Polyjuice Potion and using the damn Invisibility Cloak did not fool the threat posing as the old woman.  Hermione’s eyes widened and her wand hand tightened as she made it through a bedroom door.  A large snake’s body was wrapped around Harry. He looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness before she threw out a curse, causing Nagini to let go of Harry’s body, but strike at her.  She managed to jump out of the way, but the chaotic movement of the snake’s body prevented her from seeing Harry. Her large tail thrashing about the small room obstructed her sight. The sound of rustling feet around made her lift her head, but it wasn’t until Harry spoke that she could see his outline and face in the dim light.

“ _Coming._ Hermione!   _He’s coming!"_ yelled Harry.  His face visible with pain as he touched his scar.  Harry’s arms were then around her, she screamed as pain shot through her body, glass from the broken window pierced her cheek and gloved hands.  Harry rolled them over the bed, then, suddenly, they were falling. Shrieks filled the space around them as Harry pushed them out the broken window.  It only took a second, but Hermione managed to look up as a familiar set of scarlet eyes met hers before she and Harry disappeared into the cold night air.

A heavy thud echoed within the forest as Hermione and Harry hit the damp ground. She scrambled on her knees to assess the damage.  The Polyjuice Potion just barely ended as she took hold of him. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing.

“Harry! Harry!  Wake up!” shouted Hermoine as she held onto the shoulders of her best friend.  “Fuck! Come on, Harry!” she continued to shake him. _It’s alright, just get him inside._ Hermione tried to move him, but it was pointless.  Sitting next to him to catch her breath, she couldn’t stop her body from falling on the floor and moving around violently.  If there was any time to throw a tantrum; this was it. After a moment, she rose to her feet and pointed her wand at Harry. Her Hover Charm lifted Harry’s body and moved it into the tent on the lower bunk.  Once settled, she looked at her friend. She quickly removed his jacket and shirt, blood had made its way through his sleeve. The sight of the snake bite caused Hermione to cringe. She hurriedly removed her vial of dittany from her bag, along with clean bandages and a sponge.

“ _Aguamenti_ ,” she whispered as her wand tip shot out water to wet the sponge.  She gently cleaned the wound to remove the dry blood and to see how far the snake bite went into his flesh.  As she cleaned his wound she could hear Harry moan. “The Horcrux?” She lifted Harry’s shirt to see the locket burned into his chest. “Damn!”  Hermione tried to move the metal, but it wouldn’t release from his body. She raised her wand, casting a Severing Charm. The locket released from his neck and Hermione grabbed it and threw it down on the floor.  The oval shape burned bright on his chest. Hermione managed to remove splinters of glass from his face, noticing the warmth of his skin through her palms. She wet a piece of cloth and placed it over his forehead, hoping the cold water would start to relieve the fever soon.  Harry’s response to the coldness were only moans and soft cries. After cleaning his face, Hermione went back to check on the bite on his forearm. She added more drops of dittany to the teeth marks of the wound, causing the holes to close only slightly. Two of the puncture wounds, a bit swollen, oozed a thick amber liquid.  She once again dropped dittany on the holes, but nothing happened. Hermione touched the yellow liquid moving it between her thumb and index finger. “ _Venom_ ” she concluded as she closed her eyes and shook her head.  She glanced at her friend whose body was trembling, his clothes now wet from the sweat that was escaping his body.

An hour passed and Harry continued to fight his fever.  His cries of “ _no_ ” and “ _please don’t_ ” filled her head as she watched him.  She didn’t want to accept the only way to help him was to go to _him_.  She knew he would want something in return, she was sure of that.  The fact that she didn’t meet with him that night he demanded it would only fuel his anger even more.  She had been ignoring the locket, as his voice called to her on days it was her turn to wear it. She even made a habit of letting it sit in her pocket versus having the weight around her neck.  Harry’s moans took it out of her thoughts. She removed the cloth from his forehead and added more cool water to it. The bite on his arm stopped bleeding, but the amber liquid still settled liked puddles in the fang markings.

“Bastard!” Hermione screamed as she rushed for the locked she had tossed earlier on the floor, squeezing it tightly in her hand.  “ _Now!  Meet me now and you know where!”_ She tossed the locket in her bag, then placed her bag on the table.  As she grabbed her coat, she let out a hiss. Hermione opened her hand to reveal a thick splinter of glass still lodged in her skin.  She stared at the glass, mesmerized by the red tint of her blood.  Carefully she plucked it out, then tossed it in the grass as she walked out of the tent.  Her eyes closed and her hand tightened around her wand as the image of the old stone church appeared behind her eyelids.

Hermione opened her eyes to see the crumbing church in front of her.  The dead leaves crushed under her boots as she made her way through the broken doors.  Thoughts invaded her mind about what happened between these wall less than a fortnight ago.  She walked towards the broken window, looking at the moon which caused the glow to fill the empty space.  She shook her head in silence waiting for him to appear. But, of course, he was always a step ahead.

“Why.  Were. You. There?” Each word coming out as a hiss behind her back.  Hermione forced herself to turn around, pointing her wand straight in front of her.  He sat there, completely still, unfazed by her weapon in hand. His body was half lit by the muted moonlight, his face stoic, as his eyes burned into hers.  He looked the image of a dark wizard as he sat on a tall wooden chair with each arm resting upon an armrest. His robes were so black they blended him flawlessly into the shadows.  If Hermione didn’t have a reason to be there, she would have already ran. But this time, was for Harry. Only for Harry.

“You should know why I’m here,” her voice coming out softer than she wanted.

“Answer me!” He shouted as he slammed his fist into the armrest.  Hermione took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes at the wizard on his _“throne_ ”.

“You _knew_ he would go back.  You knew! I don’t think having your _fucking_ snake there was damn coincidence!”  Voldemort's hand was quickly around her throat as he pressed her body into the stone wall.

“The fundamental word, being _he, Hermione!”_ His fingers weren’t tight around her throat, but they weren't gentle either.  Her brown eyes stayed away from his red as tears spilled from the corner of her eyes.  “I could have had him.” This comment made Hermione turn her head, her eyes now focused on his.

“You will never have _him_ ,” she replied through clenched teeth.

“Is that so, dearest?”  He lowered his face, placing his lips upon her own.  The kiss was feather soft as his tongue reached out to taste her mouth.  Hermione’s mouth opened and accepted the intrusion. Their lips working frantically on each other.  Voldermort’s hand slid from her throat as he used his hands to lift her from the floor, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist.  “I believe I have something you need, Hermione.” His body pressed harder against her; she could feel his erection as he lowered her just enough as it pressed against her jeans.  Hermione suppressed the moan trying to leave her mouth. She couldn’t do this, she needed to get back to Harry. Hermione placed her hands on his chest and planted her feet back on the ground.  She moved slowly away from the wall, away from. She kept her hands up, noting how his eyes lowered then returned her gaze.

“Please,” she whispered. “The antidote.” He stepped closer to her.  She knew her voice sounded desperate, but she had to help Harry. Hermione swallowed, she knew what she was about to say will change _everything_.  But to her, it was the only way.  “I...I”ll come with you.” Voldermort reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a vial filled with a light yellow liquid.  A smirk crept across his face, displaying a toothy grin.

“Come here.”  Hermione made her way to the dark wizard, her eyes lowered.  He placed a finger under her chin, his eyes meeting hers again.  “Do I have your word?” Hermione nodded her head.

“Yes, I swear.”

“I believe an oath is in order,” he replied as he grazed a finger across her jaw.  Hermione kept her eyes on his. “A pact, perhaps?” Hermione nodded her head in agreement.  Voldermort swiftly grabbed Hermione’s hand causing her to yelp, his hand pressed firmly around her palm causing the thin scab on her hand to break releasing the ruby red drops from her skin.  Voldermort raised his right hand to hers and with his wand cut his palm. His blood was as dark as his eyes as it dripped from his skin. He raised his hand and without any directions, Hermione knew what he wanted.  She once again swallowed, trying to alleviate the dryness of her mouth. She pressed her hand against his and their fingers lowered to interlock with each other. His eyes met hers waiting for her to make her promise.

“I, Hermione Jean Granger, promise to leave with... _shite what do I call him?,_ with.” “ _Tom Marvolo Riddle,”_ replied his voice in her head.  “ _Get out of my head!_ ”  She felt the abrasive exit from her brain and had to close her eyes to calm the feeling in her head.  As she opened her eyes, they landed on his.

“Say it, and never let it fall from your lips again.”

“I, Hermione Jean Granger, promise to leave with Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort.  I leave with him of my own free will if he provides me with the antidote to cure his familiar’s venom.  Tom Riddle, will you accept this oath?”

“I will.”  After the agreement they pulled their hands away from each other and watched as a drop of each of their blood mixed together and enclosed itself into an elegant brass vial.  Hermione plucked the vial from the air and watched as their blood simmered together enclosed in the beautiful casing. Hermione raised the vial and locked her eyes on Voldemort.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,” she said with a scowl on her face.  Voldermort smirked at her expression holding the vial of antidote in his hand.

“You have forty-five mintues to administer this and retrieve your belongings, which will more than likely be destroyed when you return with me.”  Hermione’s forehead furrowed with confusion. “If you are a minute late, I will make sure to burn through every city and village Muggle and Wizarding until I find you.  Is. That. Clear?”

“It is,” she replied holding back any further remarks.  Voldemort held out his hands. One empty and the other with the vial.  Hermione moved closer and grabbed the vial at the same time she placed the blood casing in his hand.  She watched as his long fingers clasped the casing and placed it in his robes.

“I shall see you soon, _dearest._ ” Hermione turned her heel and walked to the door. “One more thing.”  She turned her head over her shoulder. “Happy Christmas.”


	5. Until We Meet Again, Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter and probably the shortest in this story.
> 
> Thank you Pamela RR!

Hermione could feel her pulse vibrating all the way through to her ears.  Her legs were weak, causing her to fall to her knees at the tent’s entrance.  Tears dripped from her eyes as she stared at the faded pink line on the palm of her hand.   _ What did I do?   _ Her breathing heavy and visible from the cold air that filled her lungs.  “I failed you, Harry,” she wept. The ache in her chest, painful from knowing she had to leave her best friend.  Everyone he’s ever cared for had left him and now she was another person who would contribute to his sadness. Hermione angrily wiped the tears from her face as she walked into the tent.  Harry was still asleep, his dream filled moans still filling the tent with the eerie sound. Hermione sat next to him, grabbing the damp flannel next to him and tenderly removed the thin layer of sweat that formed on his forehead.  She stared at her friend. The boy she had met those many years ago. The boy who helped save her that Halloween night. She closed her eyes, inhaled then exhaled, and once again opened her eyes to look at Harry. If this time was it for her, she would do everything she could to prepare him for it.  A look of determination now dominated her features. She had to get started.

“I have less than forty-five minutes with you and I’m going to make them count!” Hermione removed the vial of pale yellow liquid from her coat an uncorked it.  It smelled somewhat sweet with an underline of rubbing alcohol. She took Harry’s arm and added a few drops into the two larger wounds from Nagini's bite. Directly on contact the wounds start oozing the snake’s sticky venom, the amber substance dripping onto the bed’s covers.  She noticed as the last remnant of venom dripped the wounds themselves closed up. She placed the vial back into her coat, then grabbed her beaded bag. She knew she couldn't take all her belongings, even though there were not many. “Think, Hermione! You’re running out of time!”  She removed a small backpack and added her clothes, her copy of  _ The Tales of Beedle the Bard,  _ a photo, and her toothbrush and toothpaste to the bag.  She secured the bag and used her wand to levitate Harry from the bunk, gently placing his form on the ground as she packed the tent and removed her wards.  She knew Harry could not Apparate on his own, so she needed to move him at least one more time. She packed everything quietly and grabbed his hand as she Disapparated them to a new location.  As she landed, she checked to make sure Harry was alright. Nothing his color was returning and his fever was already gone. Hermione knew her time was precious. She got to work, setting up the tent and adding the wards to the area.  She levitated Harry back to the bunk and covered him with a clean blanket. She pulled out a long roll of parchment and a ballpoint pen (no time for inkwells) from the beaded bag and being to write.

_ Harry- _

_ I can’t go into details, but I’m deeply sorry.  There is so much to explain, but I can’t do that now.  I need you to know that you’re dear to me and no matter where I am, I will continue to believe in you.  You bear a weight on your shoulders that isn’t fair and it hurts me to no end that I can’t be there to alleviate some of that pressure.  Every note, bookmark, and theory are in my bag that I leave you. Along with what supplies and tins of food we have left. You must continue on without me, Harry!  Firstly, destroy the locket. Yes, easier said than done, but the sword is the way. As for the other Horcruxes, I believe that they would be important artifacts, perhaps in relation to the Founders of Hogwarts?  If possible, look further into the triangle symbol. I don’t believe it is a coincidence that we keep running into it. Also, remember there are others out there who believe in you Harry. Call on them when you need them.  I’m sure a certain house-elf would love to hear from his friend.  _

_ Until we meet again, your friend, _

_ Hermione _

_ P.S.  I leave a part of me with you.  Take care of it. _

With the feeling of lead in her stomach, Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve and placed it next to her beaded bag and letter.  She knew this could end badly, but as long as Harry had a chance, that was all that mattered to her in this moment. Payment from her, for possibly breaking his and payment for betraying him.  She can tell herself that this was all for Harry, but deep down she knew a part of this was for herself. Hermione once again checked on Harry and placed a light kiss on his forward “Until we meet again, friend.”  She walked out of the tent and stood just beyond the wards. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. “Destination. C _ heck _ . Determination.  C _ heck _ .  Deliberation.   _ Check.   _ Splinching myself and bleeding to death.   _ Maybe _ .  After another deep breath, Hermione felt the familiar pull and a pop was heard through the towering trees. 


	6. Rub-a-Dub-Dub, One Witch In a...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I'm sure as hell not profiting from this work.
> 
> Thanks Pamela RR!

Hermione fell to the floor when her foot slipped on the dead wet leaves that surrounded the old church.  She stayed there for awhile, her eyes tightly shut, as the last of her guilt ridden tears poured from her eyes.  The pain of leaving Harry ached in her heart... _ however _ the accomplishment of Apparition  _ without _ her wand shimmied in her brain.  She suddenly opened her eyes. She couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit boastful since the act could only be done by few.  And she, Hermione Jean Granger, did it. “Perhaps, my morality has wavered, but not my skill,” she said to herself, wiping the last of the salty tears off her cheeks.  She moved to stand on her feet, brushing off the damp foliage from her clothes. She stared at the stone structure, remembering her first night at the abandoned sanctuary.  The fear and excitement helped her move towards it that night. Now, an oath, mixed with that same fear moved her feet towards her future. An unknown future. What will become of her?  Would the other Death Eaters try to harm her? Would she be a  _ prisoner _ or...Hermione shook her head, then squared her shoulders.   _ I can do this _ .  As she stepped into the building, she could see his back facing her, his pale face looking out a broken window.  The same window where he first placed his lips on hers. Despite her determination to play nonchalant, her cheeks tinted at the memory.  She recalled the surprising warmth of his mouth, how something so chaste turned into lust within seconds. A side of him she was sure no one else had privy too.  Perhaps, it would always be that way when they were alone. A wizard, a man, who could push away his facade just for her.

“Congratulations, Mudblood.”  _ Or not _ . “You have managed to prevent bloodshed.”  Hermione’s eyes narrowed into slits. She hoped he could feel the sting of her stare in that bald head of his.

“Are we back to name calling... _ Tom _ ?”  With the use of his given name, Voldemort turned to face her.  Her eyes met a pair of dark red slits gleaming in the moonlight.  “Forgive me, did I say something inappropriate!” The last word causing spit to flee from her mouth.  He slithered his way towards her slowly. His eyes locked on her own, but she would not turn away. If this was the start of her future, she had to make sure she stood her ground, wand or not.

“I’ve warned you,  _ girl,”  _ he hissed.  A hiss that was pure venom as his hand slowly grasped the collar of her wool coat.  Hermione swallowed, trying to lubricate her dry throat.

“And what are you going to do about it?” she asked mimicking his hiss.  His grip grew tighter around her collar.

 “Do remember who I am, Hermione.”  Hermione smirked at this comment.

“Do remember who  _ I _ am.  Our little blood ritual will keep you from hurting me and unfortunately, that means I can’t hurt you either.”  Voldemort removed his hand from her coat and wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. 

“You’re  _ absolutely _ right, Hermione.  I should have known that such a  _ brilliant _ mind like yours would know  _ exactly _ how a blood oath works.  However…” An evil grin appeared across his face, allowing his sharp teeth show.  He moved away from Hermione, then turned again to face her. “There is one minor detail.  You see. I may not be able to harm you, but that doesn’t mean others can’t,  _ darling _ .”  

“Fuck!” replied Hermione through clenched teeth, causing Voldemort’s crackle of laughter to fill the stone walls.

“Indeed.  But don’t worry that large head of yours.  I don’t plan on any harm coming to you.”

“How reassuring of you,” replied Hermione with a roll of her eyes.  Voldemort stepped closer to her and cupped one of her cheeks with his white hand.

“If you were anyone else, Hermione.  I would have made sure to rip out those eyes a long time ago.”  Her eyes widen at his statement. “But since it’s  _ you _ .  I don’t seem to mind your defiance as much.  However...if you call me-”

“I know,” said Hermione as she crossed the space between them and placed her hand on his chest.  Voldemort lowered his head, resting it against her hair and forehead. They stood there taking in the sounds of the dark early morning. “I’m tired.”

“Then we shall sleep.”  Hermione felt the pull behind her to her torso as the old stone church faded away. 

* * *

Hermione took a moment before she opened her eyes.  She knew they were in a room due to the fluffiness she could feel beneath her worn out trainers. When she decided to take a peek, her eyes scanned the space around her. The glow from the large fireplace lit the room where a large bed made of dark wood stood, high and regal.  Hermione finally looked at the wizard whose arms were still wrapped around her body. 

“Is this your room or mine?” said Hermione in a faint voice. 

“These are my chambers. I will show you your rooms later today. It’s quite late and you mentioned you were tired.” 

“Yes, it’s quite late. Can...can you direct me to...the loo?” Hermione had to look away after asking the question. In any other circumstance asking where the loo is was perfectly reasonable; However, asking the “Dark Lord” was...awkward.  Hermione felt his hand slide down her arm and guide her to the opposite side of the room. Before she entered the doorway, Voldemort removed the pack from her back. She watched as it floated to an empty chair by the fireplace. With a light push to move forward small torches magically turned on to reveal a decadent bathroom made of beautiful white marble and golden accents. A shower was next to an extremely large bathtub that rivaled the Prefect’s bathtub at Hogwarts. A strange noise escaped Hermione’s throat as her eyes danced around the immaculate contraption. “Bath first, sleep later.” She quickly dropped to the floor and turned the gold tab to release the water. She closed her eyes to the sound of pouring water. Her hand moved under the flow to touch the hot water as it spilled through her fingers. When she opened her eyes the tub was almost full. She noticed the many glass soap bottles around the tub and grabbed the closest to her, pouring the clear liquid into the water without wasting a moment to smell it. She didn’t care what the scent was, she just wanted a bath. She quickly jumped to her feet removing her dirty clothes from her body. Her coat, her jumper, her shirt, her camisole, then finally her bra. She exhaled deeply as though the weight she had been holding was removed. She finally kicked off her shoes and socks, then removed her grimy jeans and knickers before stepping down into the hot foamy water. She moaned as the hot water embraced her, surrounding her with the most welcoming caresses. “Umm...so _warm_.”  She pressed herself against the marble and inhaled the intoxicating scent of cardamom and vanilla. _It smells so lovely.  Like..._ As realization hit her, Hermione’s back slipped from her position, causing her to clumsily fall completely under the water.  As she found her footing and managed to suck the air into her lungs, she slowly turned around. Her audience of one’s eyes were locked on her.  Hermione could imagine if he had eyebrows one would have been arched to match the corner of his mouth. “So happy I can amuse you,” she said as she pushed her dripping curls away from her face.  Voldemort simply gave her a nod and turned to leave the bathroom.

* * *

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror, thankful that it was not a magical one.  She was well aware how awful she looked. Thin, bruised, scabbed, and tired, were just a few descriptive words to describe herself.  She removed the towel that held her long hair and refused to even try to maintain the chaos of what was her hair. She walked out into the bedroom, noticing the fire still burning brightly.  Her eyes moved across the room and spotted Voldemort beneath the covers of the bed. His bald head stood out against the darkness of the sheets and fire. She moved to the bed and sat in the corner, not exactly sure if she should get into bed or go to sleep somewhere else. _   Fuck it.  I’ve already slept with him before.  _ Hermione removed the towel from around her, placing it over the chair next to the fire.  She instantly felt the chill hit her bare skin causing goosebumps and her teeth to chatter.  She surprised herself by not jumping straight into the bed to warm up, but steadily made her way beneath the warm covers.  When the softness of the sheets grazed upon her skin, Hermione let out a quiet sigh. She watched has he slept on his back, eyes closed, and his breath steady.   _ This is wrong.  This should feel wrong.   _ Hermione made her way closer to the wizard next to her. The thoughts in her head not preventing her from what she wanted to do. As she reached over to place her hand on his chest, Voldemort abruptly grabbed her wrist as though he was prepared and ready to strike when needed. His eyes were wide open and simmered from the flames in the fireplace.  She didn’t back down or try to pull her arm away from his firm grip. Hermione moved closer, keeping her dark eyes on his, as she lowered her head. Her wet tongue seductively making it’s way up his chest. With her wrist still clasped within his long fingers, she whimpered when he moved her hand to his mouth; brushing her fingertips across his lips.  She continues her way up, interchanging her licks to open mouth kisses until she reached his face.

“Did I wake you?” she asked with a false tone of concern.

“Yes. But since I’m a merciful Lord. I forgive you. No need for punishment.” 

“I see...but...perhaps a little punishment is required.” A small smirk appeared on the young witch’s face while she moved her hand between Voldemort and the blanket covering his waist.  Her delicate fingers possessively enclosed around his erect cock. The realization of both of them bare under the heavy covers only intensified her arousal. The ache creating the desire to rub her wet core against his narrow hip. He moaned.

“Are you too spent for me to continue?” asked Hermione as she continued stroking him and peppering his collarbone with light kisses.  Voldemort slid his slender fingers into her thick hair, cradling the base of her head, while he pulled her closer to his face.

“I forbid it,” he hissed, crashing his lips against her own.  Their tongues exploring each other as though it was the first time experiencing the new sensation,  At once, she was beneath him, her thighs willingly spread to welcome his body.

“Wonderful,” she moaned, as her fingers found his back and traced the length of its lean muscles. His head moved lower nibbling on the sensitive spots behind her ear and the path down her neck. Hermione cried out in pleasure as he bit the flesh of her neck, then soothed the sting with a swipe of his warm tongue. She rolled her hips harder against him, silently pleading for him to fuck her. To her satisfaction, she didn’t have to wait much longer. Voldemort entered her hard. They had done this before, but this time, felt even better. The feel of him inside her was fulfilling, powerful. She wanted to believe this was something only she could have, watching him being in control and losing control at the same time. 

“So  _ warm _ ,” he moaned, as he grabbed hold of the headboard with one hand, thrusting deeper inside her. The ache inside her started to grow, growing more and more intense. “Yesss.  _ Come _ . Come for me!” Her body reacted to his magical words and that beautiful intense feeling unleashed. Her cries that echoed throughout the room were only seized by the loud moans of Voldemort’s release deep inside her.

A faint orange light peeked through the curtains indicating the sun was starting to rise. Voldemort moved off her, but pulled her close to him as they both drifted into sleep. 


	7. Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading this story, following this story, and sending me kudos. Your support has been truly fantastic and I wanted to let you know that all of you are awesome. 
> 
> Thanks Pamela RR for all your help. You're awesome too ;)

Hermione’s eyes were too heavy to open from her short sleep.  Her body protested, refusing to leave the comfort the soft bed provided.  She felt a weight next to her, pushing down into the soft mattress, causing her to stir from her cozy position.  “ _ What time is it _ ,” she thought as wakefulness started to reach her senses.   She could feel a light brush on her forehead, the irritating sensation, causing her to finally open her eyes in a huff.   As her eyes opened, she noticed the spot where Voldemort should be sleeping was now empty; however, the tickling on her temple did not cease.  Hermione slowly turned to her other side, the view causing her mouth to go dry. Next to her, Nagini’s thick long body laid on top of the blankets as her massive head, with its large yellow eyes, stared directly into hers. “Fuck me,” Hermione breathed. The memory of her last encounter with the serpent sprang to the forefront of her brain.  Not that it was that long ago. She had only hit the snake with a curse earlier that morning as it attacked her and Harry in Bathilda Bagshot’s old house. Hermione started to breathe quickly as the heat from the room and the large snake surrounded her body. She had no idea what to do. Her wand was gone and Nagini was too fast for her to simply jump out of the bed.  Hermione very steadily moved her body up against the headboard, allowing her back to press against the firm wood for support.

“H-hello, Nagini,” she said, pulling the sheets further up her body to cover her bare chest.  Nagini continued to stare at the witch, only moving her head to the side as though questioning why this bushy haired creature was in her master’s bed.

“Ah.  It seems an introduction isn’t necessary.”  Without moving her head, Hermione's eyes moved to where the familiar voice came from.  Voldemort was seated at the end of the bed with his back leaning against the post of the bed.  He was dressed in a dark grey dressing gown, that fit loosely around his  cadaverous body.  One long leg fell to the side of the bed, while the other was lifted at the knee, his hand dangling casually from it.  Hermione was a bit taken aback from his demeanor. He looked so... _ relaxed _ , despite his dangly-bits on display. 

“Yes, I am quite familiar with your... _ friend,” _ she said, moving her eyes back to the large snake.  I had the honor of almost being killed by her.” Voldemort laughed at the witch’s sarcastic comment, causing Hermione to roll her eyes at his reaction.  _ Yes, being murdered by a snake is truly amusing _ . A moment later Voldemort said something in Parseltongue and Nagini moved to the floor, then slithered to her master. Her large head now rested on his thigh as he gently stroked her head with his skeletal hand. 

“Her orders were simply to capture Potter.  She would not have killed either of you,” he said calmly while he continued to pet the snake. Hermione watched as Voldemort regarded his familiar.  The look in his scarlet eyes displaying his deep affection for the creature. “Come here, Hermione.” The sound of her name drawing her attention back to the reality of her situation.  Naked and in Voldemort’s bed.

“I think I’m fine right here, thank you,” she replied in a whisper. 

“Come  _ here _ ,” he said again, this time his eyes locked on her own.  Hermione wasn’t sure how to make the short journey across the bed.   _ Do I get out of bed?  Do I crawl over the damn bed?  _ “Do you have to make my requests, so completed?”  Hermione raised an eyebrow at his response. “Simply come here, Hermione.  There is no need to plan out a strategy to bring yourself closer!”

“I’m sorry, alright!” Hermione made her way across the bed dragging the sheets with her to cover her body.  “Forgive me for being a bit  bewildered by an enormous snake!  Thanks to you, I can’t say I hold the creatures dear to my heart,” she said in a huff. Voldemort’s stare was unrelenting as she made her way to sit next to him.  As she settled in her spot, she turned to stare back at him. “What?” Voldemort moved his hand behind her neck and pulled her face forward. His lips found hers and she accepted his kiss without protest.  Hermione’s eyes were still closed as the pressure from his mouth disappeared from her own.

“I find it most astonishing that I don’t wish to kill you,” said Voldemort, tracing his thumb across her bottom lip.  She opened her eyes and shook her head.  _ What the fuck am I doing?  _ “Exactly, what you promised, dear.”

“How many times I have asked you not to do that?”

“You can continue to tell me...and I’ll continue to ignore your request.”  Hermione couldn’t resist a small smile from forming on her lips. 

“Your honesty is disgusting.”

“Indeed.  Now, give me your hand,” asked Voldemort, extending out his own.

“Why?”  He tilted his head at her response.  Hermione took a deep breath and placed her delicate hand into his palm.  His hand moved up and Hermione watched as his long fingers enclosed around her wrist.  Voldemort moved her hand, placing it on top of Nagini’s head while he hissed something to his familiar.  Nagini opened her eyes, then pressed her head firmer against Hermione’s hand. She didn’t notice when he had let go of her wrist as she grazed her fingers across the dark green scales of the serpent's head.  As she pulled away, Nagini bumped her hand as though asking her to keep petting. The action reminded Hermione of her own familiar and hoped wherever Crookshanks was, he was safe. Tears started to flow down Hermione’s cheeks as the imagine of her tubby orange cat came to mind.  To her surprise, it was Nagini who lifted her body and licked the tears from Hermione’s cheeks. “Thank you, girl,” said Hermione as the large snake lowered its head and left the room. “She is very...unique.”

“Yes,” replied Voldemort.  “She is  _ special _ .”

“You mentioned she wouldn’t have killed me or Harry?  What orders did you give her?”  

Voldemort smiled at the young witch as he twisted his finger into one of her brown locks.  “I told her to keep hold of Potter. You were not supposed to be there, so it was possible she could have killed you.”

“Do you mean?”

“Yes.” Hermione turned her body to completely face the dark wizard.  A mischievous smirk appeared across his face.

“Harry.  He wouldn’t have died from her bite.”

“No.  Nagini is well aware of her strength and the amount of venom she releases.”

“But...but he was sick.  He was out cold and had a fever.”

“Her venom  _ is _ toxic, Hermione. He would have been fine within a few days time.”

“You lied!”

“I did no such thing, dearest.  As I recall,  _ you _ came to  _ me _ and I provided.”

“You tricked me.  Manipulated me into thinking the antidote was the only way to save him.”

“Perhaps.” 

“Perhaps? That’s all there is to say? This is my life!” 

“Hermione, please stop with the dramatics.  It is dreadfully irritating and I require nourishment.  Now, come bathe with me. We have a long day ahead of us.”  Hermione could feel the anger rise to her chest.

“Fuck you! And don’t touch my bloody hair!” she shouted as she yanked his hand out from her curls and moved to the edge of the bed.  As her feet hit the floor, Voldemort’s arm snaked around her waist and pulled her into his chest.

“Are you done with this pathetic tantrum?”

“I think it's best you go and bathe without me.  I might be too tempted to drown you.”  

“Excellent, come now.”

“Did you not hear me?”

“On the contrary, I heard you quite clearly, Hermione.  I just chose not to listen to you.” Voldemort released her and stood from the bed.  Once again extended his hand to her, which Hermione accepted.

“What do you have planned for me?”

“For today...a Christmas present,” said Voldemort, pulling Hermione with him.

“The way you said that does not sound pleasant at all.”

“Don’t you trust me, Hermione?”

“No.”

“Good, girl.  Now.” Voldemort extended his other hand, his palm open to Hermione.  “Your wand, dearest.” She looked at his empty hand, then lifted her eyes to meet his.

“I don’t have a wand,” she replied.

“I don’t like dishonesty, Hermione.”   _ Look who’s talking. _

“I am not being dishonest.  I left it behind.” Hermione instantly felt the invasion of her mind, the image of her writing a letter and leaving her wand next to it pained in her head. “Stop!” she cried, trying to push him out, but to no avail.  A second later, his abrupt exit left her with a headache.  

“How did you manage to Apparate without your wand?” He questioned with a hiss.  Hermione rubbed her temples with her hands trying to soothe the pain.  

“You and I both know it is possible to Apparate  _ without _ a wand, Voldemort!”

“Yes, and only a select few are skilled enough to accomplish this feat.  And one of them is dead.” Hermione stared at the questioning red eyes in front of her.  She didn’t have an answer for him and she didn’t want to think of Dumbledore either. She knew he was the wizard he was referring to.

“Lucky you.  It seems you’ve acquired a skilled  _ witch _ ,” she said, with an intense emphasis on the last word.  Like night and day, the expression on his face changed and his voice calmed. 

“I suppose we shall see.  Come, we need to ready ourselves for the day.”  Voldemort motioned his arm for her to follow. “We have a guest waiting for us.”

“Guest? Who?”

“Now, now.  Be patient, my dear.  I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Hermione took a deep breath and followed Voldemort to the bathroom.

“ _ What did I get myself into?”  _ she thought, watching as he disrobed.  


	8. Gift?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I'm sure as hell not profiting from this work.

Hermione wrangled her fingers through her wet hair, trying her hardest to remove the tangles as best she could.  Despite being in a location possibly filled with Death Eaters she wished she had her wand to help with her hair. “One day, I’m going to chop you off,” she mumbled to herself, finally getting the last of the knots out of her curly locks.

“Here.” Hermione looked up from the dressing table to see Voldemort in his immaculate black robes, come through the door, holding another robe in his arms.  “You can wear this for now, until I get clothes for you.”

“I brought my own clothing,” replied Hermione as she stood from her seat. 

“Are you referring to the filthy rags that were in your rucksack?” asked Voldemort as he laid the robe onto the dressing table.

“ _Were_ in my rucksack?”

“I did warn you that your belongings would more than likely be destroyed.  But, being the merciful lord, that I am, I only got rid of the Muggle items you consider your clothing. All of your other belongings are still your own.  Yes, I almost forgot.” With a flick of his wrist a small pile of light colored clothing floated into the bathroom. “I’m so accustomed to seeing you this way.” His eyes looking up and down her bare skin. “It almost slipped my mind to give you these.  We wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” The smile on his face made Hermione narrow her eyes.  

“Yes.  You certainly are a _merciful_ lord to remember my undergarments,” she replied in a saccharine tone.

“Indeed.” Walking around her, Voldemort lowered his head to the crook of her neck. The sounds of him inhaling her skin, causing a tingling sensation to run down her spine. His lips pressed down on a sensitive spot beneath her ear, tenderly moving up until he mouth reached her ear. “You smell lovely.”

“I smell like you.”

“Precisely.”  Hermione rolled her eyes at his egotistical comment and moved to put on her knickers and bra. “Once you are finished meet by the fire.  Lunch will be waiting.” Hermione nodded her head in agreement, watching as Voldemort left the room for her to dress.

* * *

“That won’t do.”  Hermione looked down at the long black material dragging across the floor.  She immediately felt the material shrink around her body, contouring itself to fit perfectly around her shape. “Sit.  Eat.” Hermione obeyed his request and sat at the large leather chair across from him. A small table with two plates filled with grilled chicken, steamed vegetables and a roll filled the room with a delicious smell. Hermione quickly grabbed her fork and knife, cutting up the chicken in small pieces.  Though the meal was light, she knew her stomach could only hold so much, due to days of very little food. “After we eat, I want to show you your rooms-“ 

“Rooms?” she asked.

“Correct.  You will have a small library-,”

“Library?”

“Hermione, if you insist on interrupting me, I will be forced to silence you.”  Hermione raised her hands in surrender. 

“A small library,” he paused as though waiting for the opportunity to silence her, “With a sitting room and a bathroom.  The rooms will be yours for the day for any research or studying I require from you. For the time being, you will not be able to roam the manor.”

“Hiding your filthy little secret, Voldemort?” she asked in a cheeky manner. 

“Yes,” he replied, as though the answer was obvious.

“Unsure of how to explain me to your Death Eaters?” Voldemort looked her directly in the eyes, while placing a piece of meat in his mouth. He went on to stare at her as he elegantly chewed his food, stopping only to clean the corners of his mouth, then returning the cloth napkin to his lap. He went on eating without any remarks and remained silent throughout the meal.  After he removed the napkin from his lap, he placed it neatly by his plate. His body relaxed and leaned back against the chair. His eyes still directed at her. 

“I don’t have to explain _anything_ to my Death Eaters.  Their purpose is to serve and that service is too _me_.  Let me remind you, that it was your decision to leave your only defense with Potter.  I told you before, Hermione, I don’t wish to hurt you, but I won’t always be around to watch you and I can’t guarantee your safety on your own at this time.” 

“So, when will the time be right?”

“There is gathering planned in two weeks for one of my most loyal.  I will present you at that time. Until then, you stay within your rooms...and _mine_.”

“And what exactly do you mean by...present?” 

“Exactly What it means, Hermione. An introduction.”

“Understood.”  She would’ve pressed harder, but he was right.  _Damnit!_ She had no wand to protect herself and she had no clue where she actually was.  The truth was it didn’t matter, this was her doing and she couldn’t leave. Voldemort stood and the food disappeared between them.  He made his way to her, placing a pale finger under her chin. He moved her head up so their eyes could meet, his thumb softly caressed her jawline. 

“Let me show you your new home, Hermione.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, against the crackling of the fire.  It was these innocent moments in time that caused that feeling in her stomach, butterflies, a feeling she was sure he would never have.  Hermione stood on her feet in front of the tall wizard, placing her hands on his chest, then stepping on her tiptoes, to place a wet kiss on his neck.  A small smile appeared on her lips as she felt his heart quicken from under her hands. She lowered herself back to her feet, keeping her eyes on his. “After you.”  He brushed the hair that fell to her forehead, before walking towards a door on the opposite side of the room. Hermione turned on her heel to follow him. 

* * *

 The view from her small library was breathtaking.  Thick snow covered the vast hills in the distance, but the gardens below, around the base of the large house, were a lush green even in the cold winter temperatures. _Magic_.  She assumed Voldemort had saved this room for last, perhaps he knew she would want to spend most of her time here.  The library was lovely. Small, but filled with books she was itching to get her hands on. Her sitting room and library were easily accessed through a door in his chambers.  His chambers only being accessible from his own personal study that lead into a long corridor.

“Hermione.”  She turned her head to see Voldemort standing in the doorway. I am pleased you like your room, but I did promise you a gift.” 

“I thought my own library was the gift?” she asked in confusion.

“No, my dearest, your gift is waiting for you in your sitting room.”  Hermione made her way to the doorway, walking with Voldemort to the room beyond her library.  The door was opened, but before she stepped in she turned to face him. She looked curiously up at him. 

“I just realized you didn’t show me a bedroom.  Where am I to sleep?”

“I’m quite sure you are perfectly aware of where you intend to sleep.”

“I’m sure even the soulless like a warm body near them during the night,” said Hermione, remembering back to their first night together. Lust flickered in his ruby eyes as he slid his fingers through her thick hair, cradling her head as his other hand gripped her waist. His body pressed her against the doorframe even as he pulled her closer. She bit down sharply at the sensitive spot she placed a kiss earlier that day and was rewarded by a hiss of pleasure. Suddenly, the sound of crystal shattering, stopped her, as her eyes comically widened and moved towards the direction of the disruption. Hermione’s brown eyes landed on a pair of very familiar black eyes, with a very familiar scowl.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione,” replied Voldemort as he pulled her further into the room. “A professor to help you with your studies.”  She turned to look at Voldemort, then back to her former potion’s professor. 

“Any chance for a refund?” asked Hermione, as the scowl on Severus face only grew deeper. 


	9. Prove It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my wonderful friend Pamela RR for taking the time to always help! And a big thanks to the folks reading and following me on this journey. Your support is absolutely amazing.

Hermione sat with Voldemort on a settee directly across from their _guest_.  Snape kept his eyes away from hers and focused his attention on Voldemort as he explained the new task he required from him.  Hermione had to keep control of herself from the presence of her former professor. She couldn’t stop the image of Dumbledore's funeral in her head, looping itself over and over like a magical photograph. 

“Do we have an understanding of what I need from you, Severus?” 

“Yes, my lord.  I will provide the girl with lessons and any assistance she might need.” 

“I expect Hermione to to assist you with the potions I require and to be able to brew in your absence.” 

“As you wish, my lord,” replied Severus with a bow of his head.

“Excellent,” replied Voldemort as he stood on his feet.  Hermione stood to follow him, but was stopped as Voldemort placed a hand on her cheek.

“I want you to stay here with Severus.  He will start you on your lessons and you need to take advantage of his time before he goes back to Hogwarts.”  Hermione took a deep breath and tried to smile at Voldemort.

“I would prefer to learn on my own.  I don’t need anything from _him_.”  Voldemort laughed and placed a kiss on her lips.  She wasn’t sure how to react, especially with an audience in the room.  As he pulled away, he kept his hand on her face, stroking it almost lovingly. 

“Is something wrong, _dearest_ ?” Voldemort asked with a mischievous grin.  Hermione clenched her fists on the sides of her body, not wanting to create a scene by raising her arm and slapping that _damn_ smirk on his face.  She wasn’t sure what made her more upset,  Snape himself or Voldemort displaying some sort of dominance over her in front of Snape.  Hermione shook her head no.

“I didn’t think so.  I will see you tonight.” With that, he walked out the door, leaving her with Snape.  She sat back down in her seat, then managed to lift her head to look at the man across from her.  His dark eyes were now directly locked on hers, but he had not spoken a word. Minutes that felt like hours had passed and the silence was starting to wear on her.

“So...push anyone off a tower lately?”  Snape quickly pulled his wand from his robe causing Hermione to almost fall from her seat.  His nostrils were flaring as his long legs made their way towards her. She felt magic surround them as he silently cast a charm.

“Why are you here Miss Granger!” His sneering voice vibrated in her ears as he pulled her up from her seat, his large nose almost touching her own.

“Don’t touch me!”  Hermione tried to pull herself from his grip.

“Why would you abandon him after that dunderhead walked out!”  Hermione’s eyes widened in shock from his statement.

“Let me go, now!” Hermione wasn’t sure how to get away, so she swiftly kicked his shin causing him to yelp and he let go of her.  She moved away as he bent down to rub his leg. “Stay there and don’t come near me.” She could see as he desperately tried to regain his composure, his chest still rising up and down to catch his breath.

“How can he succeed without you?”  The look in his eyes was genuine; anger, concern, fear?  “You have to go back. Back to the Forest of Dean.” The thought of Harry alone was enough to cause physical pain to tighten in her chest.  How can he know? Tears started to fall from her eyes.  

“I can’t go back,” she cried, falling to her knees and hiding her face as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.  The feeling of his hand on her shoulder caused her to jerk. She moved further away from her former Potion’s professor, holding her hand up, reminding him to keep his distance.

“Miss Granger?”  The look in his eyes softened as he once again moved towards her.  This time he lowered himself to the ground as though approaching an animal about to attack.  “Did _he_ hurt you?”  Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes.  She knew the “he”, he was referring too. She shook her head in response to his question.  “Miss Granger, I’m not sure-”

“Why are you pretending to care?”  

Snape rose to his feet and turned away from her. “There are things you’re unaware of and that I’m not willing to share with you.  Not now, at least.” Hermione focused her attention back to the dark wizard. “The Dark Lord told me he had a task and here I am.” 

“Is that it?”

“What else would there be, Miss Granger?”  She didn’t trust this wizard, but she knew there was something else.  Something he was hiding. She had to know. 

“How do you know about the Forest of Dean?”

“I will answer your question...but first...you will answer me.”  Hermione decided to go along with his demand, by motioning her head for him to continue.  “Why are you here at Malfoy Manor?” Hermione stood on her feet and walked to a chair that was facing the fireplace. 

“I wasn’t aware of where _here_ was until now.  I didn’t bother asking where I was being taken to.”

“Snatchers?”  Hermione turned to face Snape.

“You and I both know if Snatchers found me, I wouldn’t be here.”  Snape nodded his head in agreement as he sat back down across from her.

“You still have not answered my question.” 

“A blood oath.”  Hermione saw the flicker of concern return in his eyes, then quickly fade away.

“Why?”  Hermione took a deep breath, then turned away.

“To save Harry.  To keep him safe as long as possible.”

“And keeping him safe involves warming the Dark Lord’s bed?”  Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“How would you like me to respond to that question, Snape?”

“The truth.”  

Hermione laughed. “You first, sir,” Hermione smirked mirroring Snape’s trademark expression. “Who truly has your allegiance?”

“Myself,” replied Snape matter of factly. 

“Then it seems we have something in common.” Snape leaned back against his seat, crossing his long legs, and placing his hand underneath his chin. 

“Is that so, Miss Granger.”

“It is.”

“Prove it.”  Hermione stood from her chair and approached the wizard.  She lowered herself to the floor and kneeled in front of him.

“You have permission to see for yourself,” she said as she tapped her index finger on her forehead. I don’t know much Occlumency, so I can’t  hide anything from you.”

“ _Legilimens_ ,” whispered Snape without a second to spare.  Hermione instantly felt his invasion as images from over the months flashed behind her eyes.  Bill’s wedding, hiding, the Ministry, _the locket_.  Her memories no longer sacred to her, but now playing like a film to a wizard she didn’t trust. The late night conversations with Voldemort, the private moments alone with herself and his voice, the night they finally met.  His exit was harsh and the invisible force pushed her to the ground. Her hands cradling the pain that throbbed in her head.

“How?  How can you-,” he snarled, standing up on his feet and looking down on her.

“You have no _damn_ right to judge me, Snape!  Let’s not forget that you’re here too and I _know_ your sins are darker than my own.”

“You know nothing of me, girl!”

“What else do I need to know beside you being a liar and a _murderer_?”  She expected another outburst from him, but instead he calmed his expression and once again took a seat on a chair next to the fire.

“I don’t deny any of those things, Ms Granger.  But from what I saw in her mind...you’re not so far behind.”

“Never,” she uttered, as she shook her head.  Snape raised a dark eyebrow, questioning the younger witch on the floor.

“Really?”  He leaned his body forward, his black eyes reflecting the glow of the fire.  “The guilt you carry will eat you alive. Not to mention, you just condemned your best friend to death.”

“No!” Hermione shouted as she stood up from the floor.  Snape keep his eyes on Hermione, then leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs.  His face displaying its trademark stoicism. 

“Sit.” 

“No.”

“Sit down...Ms _Granger_ .”  The emphasis of _Granger_ held a stern commend.  Hermione walked over to the settee and sat, but her eyes refused to look at the wizard in front of her.  Instead, she took a small comfort staring at the fire as the cracking of the wood filled the silence between them.

“I believe you don’t want any harm to fall upon Potter.  That much was clear. But you have to understand, that you leaving...will break the boy.”  Hermione could feel the prick of tears behind her eyes as she turned to face the dark wizard. 

“I do feel guilty...but the guilt I feel is not towards my actions with Voldemort.  It’s only towards my dishonesty to Harry. So, I’m not sure what that says about me.  I can say this and I say it with truth. Harry will _live_ and _win_.” 

“Then, Ms Granger, we have another thing in common.”  The events of the last couple hours played out in her head.  She knew that Snape was untrustworthy, _shit he’s a traitor!_ But she needed to know that Harry was alright.  If Snape was her only way to the outside, then so fucking be it.  _What can he do, tell Voldemort that I support Harry? Ha! Beat you to it._ Hermione schooled her expression, sat straight in her seat, then crossed her legs.  Her position so beautifully mimicking her former professor’s posture, she even decided to add his well beloved scowl.  

“Prove it.”


	10. Another One Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold up! Three chapters without smut? WTF is wrong with me? Sorry for the delay. 
> 
> Thanks again to the wonderful Pamela RR for all your help!

She was sitting at an angle which helped her eyes observe, with great interest, how his long pale fingers so elegantly wrapped around his black feather quill.  The movement of his hand glided along a long sheet of parchment about to skim the surface of the floor. There was something intriguing about watching him do such mundane things.  Hermione closed the large book she was supposed to be reading and continued to watch him, his eyes not flickering once towards her direction. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to her today, not since the episode that occurred in the wee hours of the morning.

_ The sun was about to rise when she felt Voldemort jerk beside her.  His body curled up in a ball as his shriek echoed throughout his massive bedroom.  She could only watch as he left the bed and made his way to the ensuite. She wasn’t sure if she should follow, but her legs started moving before her brain could make a decision.  She entered the bathroom to see him leaning over the sink, droplets of water dripped from his face and on to his chest. His scarlet eyes were closed as he tried to calm his breathing, his ribs moving hastily up and down through his pale skin. _

_ “Can I-,” _

_ “Let. Me. Be, girl,” the snarl was low and venomous.  Hermione backed away from him, but before she could turn to walk out, his hand grabbed her shoulder, and steadily moved her so her body was flush against the wall.  Hermione’s eyes focused on his neck, not wanting to meet his eyes. He didn’t force her to look up, but only placed his head on top of hers, she could hear him breathing in and out, the puffs of his warm breath tickling her scalp.  They stayed that way for a while, no words falling between them, until he finally spoke, “the others,” was all he said before drifting out of the bathroom. Hermione followed him, only to see his dark robes leave through the door to his study.  Hermione walked back to the bed and pulled the thick duvet over her body. She knew what he meant by “the others” and she knew that Harry had discovered a way to destroy the locket. The locket that brought her to him, that brought her here. A mixture of sad and happy tears started to flow down her face.  Happy that Harry was okay and that Snape “proved it” to her. Sad because. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her away.  _

“Are you determined to sit there for the rest of the day and spy on me?”  Hermione’s eyes left the dark wizard’s hands and made their way to his face.  He still hadn’t bothered to look up at her. She had to admit to herself, seeing him scream in pain brought not only a sense of accomplishment, but also an ache in her chest to see someone she’s grown to care for suffer.  She wanted to comfort him, hold him. She wasn’t blind to the fact that he had caused so much pain to others, but to see it play out in front of her was completely different. Hermione tried to keep her hands firmly on her book, but the need to touch him was too deep.  She placed her book on the table next to the chair and walked casually over to him. His attention still  anchored on the task before him.  The back of his chair was extremely high, so Hermione made her way to his side and kneeled next to him, placing her hands on his thigh.  Her actions silencing the scratch of the quill against the parchment. Voldemort’s gaze made its way down towards the young woman next to him.

“How are you feeling?” she inquired, raising her hand to gently stroke his hollow cheek. The sight of him closing his eyes and accepting her touch only magnified the ache in her chest.  She was confused from the feeling. A feeling that has been there even before she met him that first night. Perhaps, months before.  _ How can you care about someone and want them to fail?  _ Voldemort opened his eyes. The luster they held was beautifully lustful. Her breathing increased as he pulled her delicate fingers to his mouth, grazing the tips across his thin lips. With a flick of his wand his chair pushed back from his desk and Hermione was in his lap, her legs straddling his thighs. She knew he was magically powerful, but his physical strength was impressive as well, especially from someone who looked so fragile.

His hands lowered to her sides, tracing her shape as they moved up her body. His eyes focused on hers until she started to move her hips. The motion causing him to close his eyes and moan. The sound made her press harder against his obvious erection.  _ He wants me _ . His hands loosed the fastenings of her robe, pushing it off her shoulders allowing the material to fall to the floor. Hermione watched as he took in her body, looking at it as though he had never seen it before. He moved a hand, pulling the fabric of her bra down, exposing her breast and taut nipple.  His fingers adding pressure to the peak. Her groans grew louder. His other hand gripped her hair, pulling it back to expose her long neck. His tongue trailed a wet path of bites and licks from her breast to her neck. The sensation tingling through her entire body. She continued grinding into him, her hunger for him getting stronger as he inhaled her skin and whispered “ _ beautiful _ ” into her ear. Hermione pressed him against the back of his chair, unbuttoning the top of his robes to taste the skin on his neck. She nibbled along his jawline. _ I want him.  _

“Take me...now,” she whispered in a breathy tone. Her demand found her on her back against the hardwood of the desk. His fingers hooking on the waistband of her knickers, pulled the thin fabric down her legs. Voldemort moved his chair forward, spreading her legs wider and moving her feet to rest against the chair’s armrests. He moved his head between her thighs, using his wickedly  long tongue expertly from her entrance to her clit. Exploring her need for him. The feeling was euphoric, a high that had no words. Her hips pressed harder against his mouth as she felt the addition of his fingers, thrusting in and out of her. The pleasure became overwhelming and she cried out his name while wittering beneath him; however, there was no time to surrender into the sweet aftermath of orgasm. Hermione's eyes opened suddenly when she felt Voldemort quickly get to his feet. His tongue darting out cleaning her juices from his lips, his robe with hers on the floor. Her turned her over so her stomach pressed against the desk. Her nose taking in the scent of parchment, ink, and lemon oil as she rested her face on the surface.  His nails trailed down her spine, grabbing her hips and pulling her body closer to him as he entered her with a hard push. His moan loud and masculine. 

“Yes...don’t stop!” she cried. The speed and hardness from his thrust was strong and  _ fucking brilliant. _ He lowered his chest against her back, moving his lips against her skin. 

“How do you think I’m feeling, Hermione?” His sensual tone, turning her on even more. 

“I honestly don’t care right now. Just don’t stop!” She moaned through his fierce breathing. 

Knock! Knock! Knock! Suddenly, the sound of someone knocking feverishly upon the door cast over their heavy breaths, then the click of the door opening. Swiftly, he was out of her. Hermione felt empty from his departure when she was so close to another promising climax. With a flick of his wand he was dressed. When his attention went back to Hermione she crouched down under his desk. She knew she didn’t have time to make it to his room. When their eyes met, Hermione placed her index finger to her lips signaling her silence. Before he pushed his chair back into its rightful position, she managed to see the corner of his mouth turn up. 

“My lord, please, please, forgive my intrusion, but I wanted to inform your lordship in person.” Hermione turned her head, her brain turning, trying to place the voice across the desk. “It’s done. It is safe within my vault.”

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter my study, Bella.”  Hermione placed her hand over her mouth, forcing herself to hold back the gasp threatening to escape.

“My lord, please!” The dark witch begged. 

“However...you have served me well, Bella.  No punishment is required at this time. In fact, your loyalty has been exceptional.” 

“My lord, I am at your service,” ensured Bellatrix. Hermione couldn’t be sure, but she envisioned the crazy witch bowing to him. 

“Indeed.  And with that, you should be rewarded,” replied Voldemort. Hermione was happy he could not see her under his desk, due to the extremely exaggerated roll of her eyes.

“You’re most gracious,  _ my lord _ ,” a brief pause filled the room before Bellatrix spoke again, “There is nothing I want, but something I need.”  Hermione could hear the tone of the witch’s voice change. “It has been months...months since we have shared a bed together, since you have used me for your deepest needs.” Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. “I would like nothing more than to pleasure you.”  Hermione shifted; she wanted to leave. She didn’t want to listen anymore as the thoughts of him and Bellatrix plagued her mind.  _ Fuck it! Let her see me! _ Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to move due to a strong hand holding her down by her shoulder. His grip soundlessly commanding her to stay still.  Hermione would have shouted to let go, but his wordlessly cast  _ Silencio _  prevented that from happening.  She was stuck, like the bile in her throat from listening to the crazed witch’s pleas.  

  
“ _ What the fuck am I doing?”  _ she thought, closing her eyes and begging to Merlin that Voldemort would hurry and send the bitch on her way.


	11. Eating The Whole Damn Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I'm sure as hell not profiting from this work.
> 
> Thanks Pamela RR!

The questions suffocating her mind prevented her from hearing what was being spoken above.  Warm tears started to descend down her cheeks and if she were being honest, she wasn’t sure why.  Was she jealous? Disgusted? If so, disgusted at whom? Him? Bellatrix? Herself? Hermione roughly pushed the offending tears from her face, looking at the clear salty liquid as she rubbed it between her fingers. _Don’t dwell on yourself, Hermione!  What did Bellarix do? What did she put in her-_ Hermione slowed down trying to answer her own questions, as realization came.  _He’s hiding them.  The Horcruxes._ She could feel the onset of tears forming again. _It seems the opposite sex has a way of making me cry.  No troll or Yule Ball required._ Hermione proceeded to wipe her face as she thought about her past encounters.  Particularly with a red-headed prat named Ronald. Not only was she trapped...literally, but she was trapped in her head and in her heart.  The idea of Harry fighting for the greater good mixed with the thought of another witch, touching _something_ she secretly claimed for herself, made every nerve in her body quiver with a dull pain.  She closed her eyes, taking a minute to quiet her brain, deciding instead to tune into the conversation that wasn't playing in her head. 

“Such desires are futile, Bella.  There is still much that needs to be done and my time is very valuable.  I refuse to waste it on such primal instincts.” Hermione could feel a scowl stretch on her lips from her lover’s hypocritical comment.  Not that she minded. She just wanted the other witch gone.

“My lord, forgive me, but it was only requested in hopes that it might help you.  Perhaps-” Hermione could hear the heels of the witch’s leather boots as they clicked against the wooden floor.  She realized the dark witch was coming around the desk as the hem of her dark colored robe came into view. _Damn!_  Hermione pushed herself further against the desk, Voldemort’s hand gripping her shoulder harder.  She was unclear if it was supposed to be comforting, but in an awkward way his touch had become that to her.

“Remove your hand from my person, Bella.  I don’t believe I gave you permission to come near me.”

“Forgive me, my lord.  Hermione watched as the hem of Bellatrix’s robe retreated from her view. 

“Now, leave me.  I have matters to attend to.” 

“Yes, my lord,” answered Bellatrix.  Hermione heard the sound of the heavy wooden door close and the mechanism of a lock setting into place.  She released a deep breath, relieved that they were again alone. Voldemort pushed his chair away from his desk, providing a significant amount of space for Hermione to make an appearance.  She swiftly moved from her crouched position, making sure to grab her robe from the floor next to her. Slipping the covering over her shoulders, she readied herself for whatever conversation was about to happen.  As she turned to face him, her breath caught in her throat. The scene in front of her was utterly picturesque. His eyes bore into hers as he sat in his chair as though it were a throne. Silent. _A sacrificial virgin being offered to an ancient god._ At that very instant, something happened.  Hermione wasn’t sure if it was an epiphany or simply coming to the realization of her current position in life.  All she knew was that she had a plan. Was it a concrete plan? Perhaps not, but she was a witch after all and there was magic in  this world that she had yet to explore. Hermione made her way towards him, a grin emerging on her face. She raised her hand to meet his face, but before it made contact with his skin, she stopped and lowered her hand to her side.  Voldemort’s forehead furrowed.

“Forgive me,” she so innocently said.  “Do I have _permission_ to touch you?”  The speed of Voldemort’s grip around her waist caught her off guard.  The chuckle she was meant to release came out more as a gust of air. Her knees were now on each side of his thighs, straddling him on his would be throne.  She was exactly where she wanted to be.  

“I detest mockery,” he hissed, sliding the unfastened robe back off her shoulders. 

“Is that so?” inquired Hermione, grinding her center across his hardened length.  “It doesn’t feel that way.” Voldemort’s arms tightened around her body, instantly they were on his bed, his robes long vanished.  Hermione melted into his arms, relishing in the feeling of his chest pressed firmly against her back. His long fingers weaved within her hair, holding it up for his tongue to explore the length of her neck, her jawline, her mouth.  The stimulation was overwhelming in the most exhilarating way. Her response only to press her bum harder against him, wanting to feel his flesh cover every part of hers. His response, the moan she already knew so well. The sound that made her eager body ache for more.  Voldemort’s lips ensnared hers in a possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting deliciously in her mouth, promising to her what his member will be doing soon. His long fingers gripped her waist, then made their way around to greet her inviting center. Hermione moved her arm over her head, pulling his face down for another scourging kiss, his fingers now rubbing her swollen nub.

“Don’t ever stop touching me,” he whispered in her ear, right as she felt the force of his cock dive deep inside her.  His arms were now around her, kneading her breasts while he moved in and out of her at a wickedly slow, but intoxicating pace.

“Never,” cried Hermione, holding his hands that were locked on her chest.  “I’ll never stop.” Her words seemingly causing him to expedite the motion of his hips.  Hermione was dangerously close to her climax, trying hard with everything in her being to not come.  She wanted to feel this for as long as she could. Her brain was mush and it was _wonderful_ .  Alas, her body gave up.  She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drown in the sweet ache that moved from her core to her belly and beyond.  The sensation was so raw and _different_ this time.  Not only did she recognize her own release, but something else.  Something hidden within it. The vibration soared through her body filling her insides with...His moaning intensifying, the sound intensifying the last wave of her orgasm as he came inside her. “I will be the only one now, to share your bed.”  She wasn’t sure what made her say it at that very moment, perhaps, it was the fact that he was still inside her or maybe it was the feeling of his breath still playing across the sensitive skin under her ear. His embrace loosened around her. The sweat on her body started to cool from the chill in the air.  _Maybe silence is better._ Hermione didn’t turn her head to look at him, she merely repositioned herself,  pulling her spent body underneath the heavy warmth of the blanket.

* * *

Hermione’s eyes opened to meet a silver stream of moonlight, seeping through the gap of the drawn curtains.  Her head moved to the brass skeleton clock sitting on the nightstand, the antique device’s hands displaying a time of 11:25.  With a huff, she dropped her head back on the pillow, turning her body to the wizard next to her. His back was facing her and from the sound of his steady breathing he seemed to be fast asleep.  The glow from the fire mixed with the moon gave his skin an otherworldly look. A tinge of pale blue mixed with gray. The color looking more pronounced against the darkness of the covers. Hermione closed her eyes, remembering everything that happened in the course of the day.  The pain he went through that morning, which she was definitely sure was due to the Horcrux. That only being verified with the arrival of Bellatrix at the most inappropriate time. The idea of Bellatrix with him caused her stomach to tie in knots. _Did she make him moan the same way?_ Hermione shook her head, physically trying to remove the image from her brain. _It had to happen_ .  Even if the thought repulsed her, it managed to stroke the flame buried deep within her.  The same flame that made her who she was. The after was perfect. Feeling him inside her, his power was a feeling one could not put into words.  Hermione moved closer to his sleeping form, her bare chest pressed against his cool back. She slid her arm over him, instantly feeling his fingers wrap around her wrist, then loosening as he placed her hand over his heart, his fingers lacing with hers.  She placed her face at the base of his neck rubbing her cheek on his skin, marking her territory like a territorial feline.  _Prophecies can go fuck themselves.  Harry will win this war and I...will still get my wizard._ Hermione closed her eyes, curling herself into his body, taking in their mingled scents as she drifted to sleep.


	12. A New Friend

Hermione was awoken by the sound of movement around the bed.  Something heavy closed and the distinctive noise of the _Colloportus_ charm followed shortly after.  She rubbed her eyes profusely, trying to remove the heaviness from their sleepy state. 

“Go back to sleep.”  The demand wasn’t harsh, but Hermione made the decision to sit up instead, stretching her arms above her head, before resting her head against the headboard.  “I believe I told you to go back to sleep.” Hermione turned her head to see Voldemort. His back was facing her as he looked outside the dark window as snow fell quietly against the many square panes.

“Since when do I do what you say?”  Her question made him turn to face her.  She watched as he walked towards her, his black robes, long and trailing behind him.  He moved closer, sitting next to her on the edge of his large bed. 

“You are here...are you not?”  Hermione didn’t reply to his question.  Instead her eyes closed allowing her attention to focus on the feeling of his hand on her skin.  The way his fingertips moved up her arm and then across her clavicle. His touch, making her body react in the most tantalizing way.  As his fingers made it to her lips, her mouth slightly opened, placing tender kisses on the tips of his fingers.

“Remind me again, of the things you wish to teach me,” she whispered taking hold of his hand, moving it down her neck, to her chest, over her stomach, between her thighs.  The sounds of his hiss made her inhale sharply, as those fingers of his started to move through her wet folds...then stopped. Her darkened eyes opened with confusion, meeting his red.

“As tempting as this is, I must leave.”  Hermione rolled her hips harder against his hand, causing him to close his eyes and groan.

“Forgive me, I didn’t hear you,” said Hermione as she pushed the weighted covers to the side, displaying her nude form for the taking.  Then she was on her back. 

* * *

Hermione watched as he placed his travel cloak over his pristine black robes.  Like any woman watching her lover preparing to leave, she had a plethora of questions to ask him.  Why are you leaving? _Where are you going?  When will you be back?  Who are you going with?_ Hermione knew he would not give her any information, but perhaps a timeframe wasn’t too out of the question. “I will be back by the new year.”  Hermione couldn’t stop the surprised look from appearing on her face. “I didn’t need to read your mind, _dearest_. I am quite aware of when you have questions.  Which is the majority of the time.” 

“If that’s so, then why don’t you answer my questions the _majority_ of the time?”

“Because I have no need to.” _Prat!_   “Severus will be here after breakfast today and the rest of the time that I’m away.  When you complete your lesson with him today, a house-elf will come and take your measurements for new clothing.  You may also let it know whatever else you might need.”

“It?  I’m quite positive he or she has a name.”  Voldemort turned to face her without any form of emotion on his face, which irked her greatly.  Staring back at him, she tried to prevent herself from lecturing on the inhuman treatment of these creatures and declaring him an evil arsehole, but he was probably already aware of that fact and therefore would be wasting her time.  Hermione closed her eyes to calm herself. _I can only do so much.  His treatment of house-elves will be added to my list, but sadly would not be my top priority._ She opened her eyes to meet his again.

“I left you another robe in the laboratory to wear until your clothing arrives.” 

“How thoughtful of you,” she replied with a false gratitude.  “For a moment, I thought I would have to pull a Scarlett O’Hara.”  Voldemort’s eyes moved his eyes towards the window, his non-existent eyebrow raised in question. 

“Now, pet.  There truly is no need to destroy perfectly fine curtains.”  Hermione was still angry, but the comment forced a tight smile to appear on her face.

“I suppose it’s for the best.  I’m a terrible seamstress and being wandless doesn’t help.” 

“Ah, so something my acquired skilled _witch_ isn’t capable of?”  Hermione rolled her eyes at his impertinent statement, sliding herself completely back under the covers.  _We shall see about that._ “Are you not going to wish me a safe journey before I leave?”  Silence. “Very well.” Hermione’s eyes were open under the blankets as she thought about him not being here with her.  Perhaps, even never returning. Then, what will happen to her? She will be free, but he will...

“Voldemort!” she shouted, jumping out from beneath the blankets and out of the bed.  He was still standing in the same spot, as though he knew she would not let him leave without saying anything to him.  Hermione made her way to him, standing close to his body. She placed her hands on his chest and looked into his eyes. They glimmered against the fire like garnets. “I hope you fail miserably on whatever horrific thing you’re planning on doing,” she said, then turned on her heel and walked back to the bed, then positioned herself comfortably back underneath the covers.  Once she was a snug fit, she faced him again, a flirtatious smirk played upon her lips. “However...do be sure to return.” With that, he was gone.

* * *

Hermione was standing still in her bra and knickers while Meeley strategically moved the measuring tape in different directions around her body.  Hermione had made sure to introduce herself the the little house elf when her breakfast was delivered later that morning. It was the first time she had seen the elf since she arrived to the manor. Meeley was small with large hazel eyes and large ears, like many of the other house-elves she had met.  Hermione had startled the poor thing when she started talking to her and insisting she be referred to as Hermione and not Miss. However, Meeley refused and Miss it was.

“Meeley?”

“Yes, Miss?” 

“Volde-,”  Meeley’s screech was so loud, Hermione grabbed for her wand that she did not possess, in fear that someone was hurting the small creature. 

“Miss, no, no, no!  Can’t say, that!” Hermione fell to her knees, trying to stop Meeley as the elf started using the tape measure as a lash against her tiny arm.

“Stop! Don’t, do that, Meeley!”  Hermione forcefully snatched the tape measure from the elf.  Her actions causing Meeley to start crying, until Hermione’s only solution was to yell at her.  “Stop! This instant!” The elf immediately stopped, her eyes glazed over with unleashed tears. “I’m sorry, Meeley.” The elf’s lip pouted like a child being scolded by a parent.  Hermione’s chest ached at the sight. “Now, I promise I won’t say _his_ name, but you have to promise not to hurt yourself.  Is that clear?” The elf blew her nose on her pillowcase dress and nodded her head in agreement. 

“Yes, Miss.  Meeley does what she is told.”

“Good.  Are we finished now?”  

“Almost, Miss.  Meeley only needs one more measurement, then your robes will be made.”

“Perfect.”  Hermione stood back up, as Meeley stood on the ottoman and measured her the length of her arm. 

“Master wants  you to have more things.  What do you need, Miss?” 

“Um. More undergarments would be nice.  Some more bras and knickers and sleepwear.”

“Oh, yes.  Silk and lace pieces.” 

“No! No, silk or lace.  Just cotton things. White.”  Meeley looked taken aback by Hermione’s decline.  Hermione quickly changed the subject. “Oh! Perhaps some soap and shampoo of my own.  I don’t believe you can get me Muggle shampoo and conditioner, so whatever you can get me will be fine.”  Hermione watched as Meeley nodded her head in agreement, then stopped to stare at her with a finger under her pointy chin.

“Miss?  May Meeley touch your hair?”  Hermione looked at the creature who was studying her face with fierce observation.

“Um...of course.”  Meeley reached up, curling her tiny finger into Hermione’s mane.  She looked at the ends, pulling them down, then letting them spring back into wild frizzy curls.  She nodded her head again as though she came to an obvious solution for the mess in front of her. 

“Meeley thinks aloe vera and rosemary and argan oil will work.  Maybe Meeley can cut some too?” Hermione looked at the elf with bewilderment, as Meeley continued to talk about the treatment of her hair.  “It will be shiny and even more beautiful for Miss. Meeley does _love_ using scissors!   Can Meeley cut? Miss?”  Hermione looked down at the elf, her brain turning as she looked at the sear happiness on Meeley’s face.  _Meeley lives here.  She is the Malfoy’s house-elf.  If I…_

 _“_ Meeley, you can fix my hair and even cut it if you like.”  The elf started clapping, while jumping up and down. “But.”  Meeley stopped and looked wide eyed at Hermione.

“Yes, Miss?” Hermione felt terrible for using the poor creature, but she will get what she needs and Meeley will have the opportunity to showcase her love for scissors.  _Oh, dear!_   In a way it was a win-win, for both of them.  Besides, hair grows back, right?

“Before I let you touch my hair again,  I need you to get me into the Malfoy library.”  Meeley’s eyes grew larger and Hermione caught her hand before Meeley used it against herself. “I told  you no hurting yourself, Meeley.” 

“Oh, Miss! You can only stay in your room and Master’s.  No leaving those rooms.”

“Oh…” Hermione provided Meeley the same pout she received moments ago.  “I see.” Meeley nodded her head quickly. “I was so looking forward to you fixing my hair too.”  Hermione was internally slapping herself, but she needed to get into that library. Draco used to boast about his library being better than Hogwarts and she was sure she could find the information she needed for her plan, which wasn’t really a plan yet.

“Oh, Miss!” 

“No, it’s alright, Meeley.  I _completely_ understand.”  Hermione patted the little elf on her head.  As she moved her hand away, a tiny finger enclosed around her wrist, catching Hermione off guard. 

“Miss will also like silk and lace undergarments.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Hermione could swear she could see a mischievous gleam in the elf’s eyes.  Hermione huffed. 

“Very well, silk and lace bras and knickers!” 

“With colors!” 

“Fine, but tonight you will take me into the library.”  Hermione pointed her finger at the elf.

“Yes, Miss.  After all the guests have retired for the night.  Meeley will take you.” 

“Excellent,” replied Hermione as she thought of what she would need to look for. 

“Gold!” exclaimed Meeley.

“Gold what?”

“Gold underclothing will look lovely on you.”  

“Gold it is.”  Hermione looked down at her current bra and knickers. “Do you really think gold knickers would look good on me?” 

“I think gold knickers would look exceptional on you.”

Hermione stood still in shock, recognizing the familiar baritone voice from behind her.  She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat, as gradually turned to face Snape as he stood near the fireplace, mindlessly dusting the soot off his black flock as his black eyes took in her almost nude body. 


End file.
